Gears of War: Gamma Squad
by DavrosVonJammell
Summary: While Marcus Fenix returns home a hero, Gamma squad is sent to South Wales to destroy a Locust nest. However, the squad find themselves in the hotzone. Will they make it out?
1. The Crash

"Damn it! My gun jammed again!"  
Private Robert Lloyd slapped his Boltok pistol, restraining from smashing it against the side of the King Raven they were flying in. He hated flying, and it didn't help that Gamma Squad's sniper, Private Lodwick, was sitting to his right, vomiting into a bucket. Private Lodwick was around five foot ten, and despite being broad, bald and intimidating, he didn't have the stomach to fly. Robert closed his eyes as Lodwick missed the bucket, and spilled some of the yellowish brown vomit on his boots.  
"Oh man! That's disgusting!" Sergeant Hilde bellowed. "You sick fuck!"  
Hilde was a tanned man built like a wrestler. Hilde had short, black hair and thick stubble on his chin. His armour, unlike the others, only covered his chest, exposing thick, strong arms covered in tattoos. Hilde's waist was decorated with grenades.  
"I can't help it," Lodwick answered in his deep, monotonous voice. "These things play Hell with me!"  
"You get any of that on me, and I'll be using your face to wipe my boot!" Hilde replied cruelly. "How did you get into the COGs, Lodwick? Spew on the bosses until they gave you a job?"  
"You're in no position to talk," Lodwick snarled, wiping his mouth clean. "From what I hear, you were on Bravo team, but got reassigned after you fucked up their entire unit!"  
Hilde shook his head. "They were pathetic. Their commander was a dick, and they were useless at even the simple missions. I'm surprised you weren't in Bravo."  
"Fuck you!"  
"God, they're at it again," David sighed quietly to Robert.  
Robert smiled lightly. Corporal David James was the only soldier in the squad to wear his helmet due to his fear of snipers. David was not a muscular man, but made up for his lack of strength with his great knack for communication technology. David was the quiet one of the squad, but he and Robert had made friends easily. Mostly because they worked well together.  
"Stop it, the pair of ya!" A strong voice commanded, which silenced the two instantly.  
The owner of this voice was a tall man, around six foot six. He was a broad fellow, and wore an older armour than the newer COG gear. He had a shaved head, but it was obvious that he was blond before shaving it off. In his left hand his shotgun idly dangled, fully loaded and ready for action. The man's face was worn, yet contained strength. It was a face of experience and raw power. This man was their commander.  
Luitenant Dale Gravell.  
"Sir, tell Lodwick to grow some balls and hold in what he just ate!" Hilde said respectively.  
"I'll feed ya a knuckle sandwich in a minute!" Lodwick snapped.  
"Bring it on, bitch!" Hilde challenged, starting to get to his feet.  
Luitenant Gravell's hand gripped Hilde's shoulder, preventing him from moving in. Hilde looked up, and glared at Dale. When Dale returned the stare, Hilde gave in, and relaxed.  
"Good man," Gravell smiled, and sat next to the sulking Hilde.  
"Sir," Robert began, curiosity overcoming him. "Where are we going?"  
"Ephyra Station," Luitenant Gravell answered. "They require us to help push back the Locust and their tunnels."  
"How can you push Locust tunnels back.... Sir?" Hilde asked, curious but still slightly moody.  
Dale smacked Hilde over the back of the head with his hand, making a loud smack sound that echoed through the King Raven.  
"With the Hammer of Dawn, Sergeant. How else?" Gravell shook his head. "The satellites will give the Hammer of Dawn enough power to use the satellite's laser to destroy the tunnels. This will push them back by about fifty miles."  
"Wait," Lodwick suddenly spoke, seemingly out of vomit now. "Isn't Ephyra Station in North Wales?"  
"Looks like the shithead knows Geography," Hilde mocked, but the voice had a more friendly tone to it, as though he was forgetting about the argument.  
Gravell ignored this. "Yes soldier. Got a problem with that?"  
Lodwick was silent, but shook his head.  
"Good to hear, soldier," Gravell said. "Now the teams will-"  
"Everyone, hold on!" Private Joseph Reed called from the cockpit of the King Raven. "Nemacysts!"  
Robert instantly grabbed the side of the King Raven, looking to Gravell for orders. Gravell turned to face Private Neil Ashford. Neil was a new soldier, but was a good soldier. He was a strong, muscular man, but did not wear the COG armour, as he found it restricting. Instead, he wore a black shirt, dark blue jeans and boots.  
Neil looked up from the picture he held to Gravell, and raised an eyebrow, awaiting orders.  
"Ashford, man the King Raven Troika!" Gravell ordered.  
Nodding, Ashford ran to the gun, and started firing. Gravell looked at the others.  
"Hold on tight men!"

Neil Ashford had been looking into the picture silently before the Nemacysts appeared. He carried the picture with him to wish him luck. It reminded him of why he wanted to live, and why he wanted to fight.  
The picture was of his wife and two year old son.  
After E-Day (Emergence Day), Neil had survived the destruction of his town, along with several others. One of these was his future wife. Years after, the remaining people of his city, who were now viewed as the Stranded, had found a location near a COG HQ. There, he married his wife, and had his son. Later that month, most of his people had been killed by the Locust hordes, but through it he pulled his family out of there. He fought his way to the COG HQ, and forced them to take his family in safely. There they stayed for a year, and as soon as his son hit one years old, the COGs took him to join them. He trained for another year, through harsh training grounds and a drill sergeant that gave him several cuts and bruises. From there, he was assigned to Gamma Squad.  
Now he sat, looking upon the faces of those he fought for. They were the reasons he did this. He only fought for his family.  
"Nemacysts!"  
He looked up towards Luitenant Gravell, expecting orders. He liked the Luitenant. Gravell had been a good leader to him, and was unlike many COGs who judged him for being a Stranded. The Luitenant helped him, and accepted him for the soldier he was.  
"Ashford, man the King Raven Troika!"  
Neil nodded, and ran to the Troika. He kissed the picture, and shoved it into his pocket delicately. Taking aim, he fired at the black, oily, insectile beasts that flew fiercely towards him. Each one he hit exploded as they homed in on him. Thoughts of his family rushed through his mind, and for a brief moment the images blinded him. The images made him fear inside, seeing this as a sign of his upcoming death. Finally, his vision cleared, but he was too late for what was to come.  
The King Raven shook violently, knocking Neil off-balance. He landed in a sitting position, and gripped the Troika tightly. Suddenly, the King Raven tipped downwards.  
"Oh God! We're hit! We're going down!" Joseph Reed screamed from the cockpit.  
"Way to go, Neil!" cursed Hilde.  
"Shut up and hold on!" Gravell bellowed. "Reed, try land us now!"  
"Haven't a choice in the matter!" Joseph cried back. "Hold on! It's going to be a painful landing!"  
Neil looked at the others. Hilde glared at him. Lodwick held onto the King Raven and his bucket. Gravell was standing, gripping onto the King Raven. Robert had his eyes closed and his arms on the King Raven. David looked blankly through his COG helmet outside.  
Lodwick vomited again.  
"Shit," Neil muttered.  
They hit the ground with a violent crunch.


	2. Assembling the Squad

Five minutes after the King Raven crashed, Luitenant Gravell pushed the sheet of metal off of himself, the weight of it reluctant to let him go. Slightly dazed, he pulled himself to his aching feet, using one of the broken propellors to hold him up. Three feet in front of him, his shotgun lay unscathed. White noise travelled through his head, causing him to grit his teeth in pain. Gravell closed his eyes, and cleared his head. The white noise became louder and louder. Suddenly, it disappeared, soon replaced with the groans of his squad recovering from the crash. Opening his eyes, he saw two of his squad. One was a short, wide fellow, wearing COG armour that was now scratched. He had a green band across his left arm, and had short, black hair. His face was worn, and contained pure innocence despite everything. This man was Private Robert Lloyd.  
The other man was clad in the COG armour, and even wore the helmet. This man held his leg in his hands, rubbing his knee in pain. Robert was checking his leg, and talking to the soldier. The other was Corporal David James.  
Gravell approached, picking up his shotgun as he did. "You two okay?"  
Robert turned to him, and smiled grimly. "We're fine sir. Corporal James' leg had been crushed under a cargo box. He's fine, just has an ache in his leg. He'll live."  
Gravell nodded, and turned to David. "You okay, soldier?"  
David said nothing, but responded with a thumbs up. Gravell nodded to him, and tapped Robert's shoulder.  
"You know where the others are?"  
Robert pointed past David's position. "Sergeant Hilde chased after a Locust scout. I haven't a clue about the others. As far as I know, we are the only ones who survived."  
"Think again!" a voice called from behind.  
Gravell turned, and saw Private Neil Ashford. He was dragging the overweight pilot Joseph out of the cockpit, his Lancer rifle slung over his shoulder. His forehead was cut, the blood soaking his face. The appearance looked intimidating. The pilot looked dead, but Gravell noticed the man's light movement of his chest. The pilot was breathing.  
Private Ashford nodded to Gravell, and slumped Joseph Reed against a pile of rubble. Robert ran to Joseph, and examined him.  
"He's alive, just unconcious," Robert sighed with relief, and looked at Neil's injury. "Let me take a look at that."  
Neil shook his head, causing droplets of blood to flow down his shirt. "I'll be fine."  
"Nonsense," Robert replied hastily. "It could get infected. Let me examine."  
As Robert looked at it, Gravell helped David to his feet, tapped him on the back, and walked in the direction that Hilde ran in. He studied the buildings around him. They were old, and most were collapsing. Most were large buildings, reaching eight storeys high. These were obviously businesses once, previously containing suits and secretaries. Now it would contain only dust and skeletons. Between these buildings ran a large road, the road littered with destroyed and useless cars, some cars still containing their dead passengers.  
A screech echoed from the collapsing building ahead. Curiously and cautiously, Gravell approached, his shotgun readied. His finger fidgeted on the trigger, prepared to blow a hole into a Locust's chest. He felt a trickle of sweat flow down the back of his neck. Anxiety filled him. It felt new to him, and he hated it. He hated this feeling. It made him feel vulnerable. He hated being vulnerable. The anxiety became hate, and this fuelled him. He was ready for action.  
Gravell ran to the turning corridor, and pointed his shotgun, ready to kill-  
-and lowered it. In front of him lay a dead Locust. The creature was a normal Drone, clad in rotting COG armour, built like a truck, white, rocky skin, and an ugly, hairless face. It looked similar to a troll. The creature's face was twisted in pain and fear. Its chest was shredded open, and its ribcage was almost non-existent, the only things left of it being splinters from where the ribs once were. The Locust was clutching its Hammerburst in its dead hands, but it seemed to have been useless against its opponent.  
"I see you have met our little friend."  
Gravell turned to look behind, and saw Hilde leaning against a cracked wall, playing with his combat knife between his fingers. Hilde stared savagely at Gravell, as though the execution of the Locust was a normal process.  
"What are you playing at, Hilde?" Gravell demanded. "It could have been a trap! It could have led you to its platoon!"  
Hilde shrugged. "I'd have taken care of them too."  
"No, you would be a dead asshole!" Gravell snapped, tempted to punch the Sergeant for his reckless attitude. "You could have got us all killed!"  
Hilde smiled cruelly, and walked past him towards the ruins of the King Raven. "No sir. Getting us killed is your job."  
Gravell stared in front of him a while, restraining himself from attacking Hilde. The Sergeant had endangered them, but there again he had taken care of the scout. He had been lucky this time. Next time, it could be a trap.  
Controlling his anger, Gravell returned to the King Raven, and saw to his relief the whole squad was there. He could now see Lodwick stumbling around, trying to regain balance. Another squad member, a short, stout soldier with blond, spiked hair and small, triangular beard named Kiran Bevan, was trying to salvage gear from the King Raven, but to no avail. Robert was finishing stitching Neil's forehead. Hilde was now sitting on a rock. David was holding his radio and satellite transmitter in front of him, and shaking his head. Joseph Reed still lay unconcious against some rubble.  
Gravell ran to the squad, but before he could talk, David approached him.  
"Sir, we have bad news," David told him emotionlessly.  
Gravell rolled his eyes. "I noticed, Corporal."  
"No, you don't understand, sir," David held out the satellite transmitter to gravell. Gravell took it, and examined it. "It says we are in South Wales. This is bad, sir!"  
Gravell felt his eyes widen with horror. South Wales. They were in enemy territory, and deep into it!  
"Shit!" Gravell muttered, and handed the transmitter to David. "Use the radio to contact HQ. Tell them to pick us up ASAP."  
David was silent, and shook his head. "That's the other problem, sir. The radio's dead. Something around here is blocking the signal."  
Gravell sighed. "We'll have to move out," he muttered to David, and turned to face the others. "Listen up, men! We have a real shitty situation here! Turns out we're further behind enemy lines than we imagined. We're in South Wales!" Most of the men suddenly became silent, except for Lodwick's cry of 'Oh shit!' Gravell ignored him, and carried on. "So we are going to gather as many supplies from here and move out. This is where I need your cooperation. Lodwick and Ashford will keep guard of the perimeter, and watch out for any Locust. Lloyd, Reed and Bevan will search and salvage as much as they can from the crash site, be it food, ammo or medical supplies. Hopefully, we will have some of each. James, you will use that transmitter to find a safe location we hole up in that also provides enough signal to allow us usage of the radio." He turned to face the Sergeant. "Hilde, you and I will search the building you killed the Locust scout in."  
Hilde nodded, and stood up. He looked at the others. "You heard the Luitenant! Move it, assholes!"  
At that, everyone went to perform their assigned objectives, each one looking over their shoulders once in a while in case of Locust.  
Gravell didn't turn, but felt the same way his squad felt. What he did know was that they all had one though in their mind.  
South Wales......


	3. Separation

"This sucks!" Kiran sniffed in disgust. "South Wales... This is the damned Command's fault. HQ was an asshole for sending us, and Gravell was an asshole for following the orders!"  
"Shut the fuck up!" Lodwick called from his position, holding his Longshot, scouring the area for movement. "Can't concentrate with you whining!"  
Robert shook his head and carried on searching the remains of the King Raven. The sun's light reddened, which worried him. As the area was cast into shadow slowly, Robert knew soon that the Kryll would arrive, and they would be in major trouble if they weren't somewhere indoors and full of light when the Kryll came. Things were not going as planned: Robert had so far found some medical supplies and an ammo clip for the Lancer rifle. The others had found less: Kiran had only found one bullet for the Boltok pistol (which Robert took with gratitude being the only one with the Boltok), while Joseph had only found a shredded bandage.  
They carried on salvaging in silence, feeling hidden eyes watch them. The Locust were around, they knew it, but the question was where.  
"Perfect!"  
David stood up from where he sat, holding the transmitter in front of him. His voice was joyful, almost victorious. It was the first good thing Robert heard since before the crash. David approached Robert, and showed him the information on the transmitter. Robert looked, and grinned as he saw it.  
"Does that say what I think it says?" Robert asked, knowing that it did.  
"Oh yes," David said gleefully. "I think the Luitenant will feel better about the situation."  
"What? What is it?" Joseph asked, starting to move in on them.  
David turned to him. "We have a place to hole up before dark, and it is not that far."  
Kiran's head snapped around. "Where?"  
"It's a warehouse," David replied. "Used to be used to store military equipment and food three years ago. Also has an operational Troika."  
"As far as we know," Kiran said, bringing a cloud over their parade. "In three years, the Locust could have easily overrun it, even destroyed it."  
"We still have to try," Robert retorted, glaring at Kiran.  
Kiran did not reply, but shook his head. It was obvious to Rob that he was reluctant to accept good news. It helped to make him expect the unexpected, but it was also aggravating. Robert was not a fan of pessimism, and Kiran was just a storage room of it.  
The Luitenant appeared from the building, followed by the Sergeant. At their arrival, David ran to them, and held out the transmitter. Robert could not hear them from their distance, but he could see the look on Gravell's face soften, and he nodded. After listening to everything David said, he walked towards the others. Hilde tapped David's shoulder, and walked behind the Luitenant.  
"Alright men," Gravell ordered. "We have our next target. There is a warehouse located a few klicks away. If we move there fast and quiet, we can get there in one piece." Robert noticed everyone's attention was fixed on Gravell. "We will move in two groups. Group one will consist of myself, Hilde, James and Ashford. Group two will consist of Bevan, Lodwick, Lloyd and Reed. Group one will lead the way, while group two will cover the rear. Move fast, quiet, and continuous. If we can do this, we can go through without any incident." Gravell leaned his shotgun on his shoulder. "Let's do this, men!"  
"Finally, a chance for a hot meal," Joseph sighed.  
"Will you shut up about food?" Kiran snapped.  
"Quiet!" Gravell hissed, and started moving down the road with the others in group one, weaving around the wrecked cars.  
The two groups kept low, ensuring nobody's head was above the car roof's level. Robert kept at a steady speed, directly behind Lodwick. Behind him, he heard Joseph breathing hard, finding it difficult to move fast. It made Robert worry. Joseph's breathing was loud, and could give away-  
A bullet whizzed past Robert's head, causing him to hit the ground in reaction. A scream of agony echoed from behind, and Robert knew instantly who it was. It was Joseph.  
Guns started blazing from Kiran's Lancer, who had moved next ot Joseph, protecting the obese pilot. Robert crawled to the two, wanting to see Joseph's wound. Joseph screeched in pain, clutching the wound in his shoulder. The blood trickled through his fingers, soaking Joseph's bare hand. Robert turned and saw Lodwick taking cover behind a wrecked truck, returning fire with his Longshot. He had taken down two Locust, Robert saw. The enemy had been waiting in a building. Group one was not visible.  
Robert reached Joseph and Kiran, and saw the fear and shock in the large man's face.  
"Joseph, I need you to calm down," Robert said calmly.  
"I've been shot! I've been shot!" Joseph cried, ignoring Robert's words.  
"It's best we leave him here!" Kiran shouted. "He's going to be a burden for us!"  
Robert ignored Kiran, and grabbed Joseph's arm, grabbing the pilot's attention. "Listen, we have to move. Just keep low and move fast. We can catch up to group one if we are fast enough."  
Joseph seemed to not listen at first, but after a few seconds he nodded to Robert, and pulled himself into a crouched position. Lodwick still lay in his position, firing a fatal shot when he can. The bullets hammered down on Lodwick's vehicle violently, eager to pierce flesh. Lodwick signalled Robert, and as he fired a shot, Robert ran to Lodwick, followed closely by Joseph and Kiran.  
"What the Hell, man?" Lodwick cried over the gunfire. "We have to move now!"  
"Where's group one?" Robert answered.  
"I don't know. They took cover further ahead. They haven't shown any sign of being close by. Maybe they have trouble of their own."  
"I hope not," Robert sighed, and fired over the truck, one shot resulting in a cry from a Locust.  
Gunfire rained on their position, but suddenly stopped. Kiran peered around the corner, and turned back to the others.  
"They've gone!" he hissed. "This is bad! They've probably found a weak spot on our location, and-"  
"Let's not waste time!" Robert interrupted, and without any other words, ran forwards, dodging and weaving through wrecks and rubble. He heard Lodwick and the others close behind, their footsteps echoing through the now dead silent area. Yet Robert still felt eyes watching him. The Locust were around, and they were waiting for weakness.  
A screech echoed from behind them, causing Robert to pause briefly. The screech filled the entire street, and threatened to shatter his ear drums. The cry last as long as two minutes, and as Robert realised what it was, he started to sprint for his life. The cry from Kiran confirmed his fear.  
"WRETCHES!"  
The others started to flee, but now they were making a great mistake. They were not keeping low, exposing them to any snipers. However, it seemed the Locust were not intending to shoot. Especially when they didn't need to waste ammo. Robert could hear the Wretches clawing their way to their group, their cries and hisses filled with hunger.  
"In here!"  
Robert looked ahead, and saw a sight that filled him with hope. Luitenant Gravell stood at the entrance of a small building, aiming his shotgun behind Robert. What filled him with hope was that it was a short distance, and it was easy to make. Without stopping, Robert turned his direction towards Gravell, and sped for the building. Behind Gravell, Robert saw Ashford providing cover fire, firing his Lancer.  
As Robert reached Gravell, two hands fell upon his back, and knocked him into the building. The figure that pushed him rushed past, and as it entered the building, Gravell slammed the door shut. As Robert turned, he saw that the figure had been Kiran. The blond soldier had blood spattered on his armour. It was fresh blood.  
Gravell approached Robert, and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Where are the others?"  
Robert suddenly realised. He did not see Lodwick and Joseph enter. They seemed to have disappeared as soon as the Wretches appeared. He had not heard or seen them since.  
He looked up at Gravell in shock. "I don't know."  
"Great," he heard Hilde mutter. "They lost them!"  
"Then we know what we have to do," Gravell said, and turned to David. "I want you to use the transmitter to get to the warehouse with the others. Lloyd and I are going to retrieve the others."  
Ashford stood up. "No sir. I'll go. You need to lead the others to the warehouse. Besides, if you die we lose all hope of escape. Command will only answer to you."  
Gravell was silent for a second, but nodded. "Valid points. Be careful, and get back to us before nightfall. That's an order." Gravell pulled out a flare gun. "When we reach the warehouse, I will fire this. Keep a look out for it."  
Robert nodded, as did Ashford.  
"Alright then," Gravell said, tightening his hand around his shotgun. "Let's do this!"


	4. Bloody History

As they exited the rear of the building, the area opened up to a large courtyard. The remaining lights from the setting sun glimpsed upon the large courtyard, revealing the decaying remains of the citizens. The bodies littered the courtyard. Aside from these bodies, the courtyard was surrounded by other buildings, with one road leading away from the courtyard between two collapsed buildings. The ground was marbled, the colour draining from it. It looked as though someone had sprayed it with a strong hose, and had intended to wash the colour off. In the middle of the courtyard, a twenty foot statue made from steel stood on a pedestal. The statue was covered in a grey substance, but was still detailed at first glance. The statue was of a man around his mid-forties, dressed in a suit. The man was a tall, thin figure, and looked sophisticated. His face had an educated yet cruel feel to it. The eyes were narrowed, as if judging them. His head was balding, with hair around the sides of his head. The man's nose was crooked, and his lips were pursed into a sycophant grin. Underneath the statue, engraved on a silver plaque, was the name 'Chairman G Richards'.  
As the group approached the statue, they felt the cold, dead stare of the statue.  
Private Kiran Bevan stopped in front of it, and pointed at it with his Lancer. "Who's the creep?"  
Corporal David James looked, his helmet glinting slightly in the slowly darkening sky. "Read the name underneath, Brains."  
"Funny, asshole," Kiran retorted. "How funny would you be after I shunt my foot up your ass?"  
"Calm it," Luitenant gravell ordered, rubbing his temple. The whole scenario was giving him a headache. "I need to think."  
Kiran turned back to the statue. "So what's his story?"  
"Well-"  
"Chairman G Richards was the head of this town," Luitenant Gravell interrupted David. This was a story he had to tell. "Three days after E-Day, Chairman Richards got as many police officers to round up the civilians and gather them to the town. There, the Chairman instructed the surviving people to baricade the main area, which we are currently standing in." He glanced at the other three, who looked with interest. "A week and four deaths later, the people had made an almost impenetrable fortress. Over the course of time, they had been attacked twelve times, with limited weapons and supplies, and still under Chairman Richards the people were victorious." Gravell smiled grimly to himself. "It seemed that Chairman Richards was a great leader. During the events, he had formed a small council, consisting of himself, his secretary, the police chief Phillips, and the people's representative Mauro. This council decided on what to do, and what their actions were to be. They attempted to contact the newly formed COGs, but COGs decided against it. As far as our people were concerned, they were dead to them." He held his hand up at Kiran, preventing him from speaking. "Don't ask why. I don't know. All I know is Chairman Richards was alone. That is why the people built a statue. To commend him for his relentless attitude to fight for his people. Then he went mad."  
The others looked at Gravell curiously, even David, who seemed to have some knowledge on the history. Gravell continued. "A year later, Chairman Richards sent a small group to go out past the enemy outside, and find reinforcements. Most were killed exiting the barricade. Two made it through, but both died from exposure at the COG base. Documents found by his secretary even revealed that Chairman Richards was acting strange, and had executed four people for treason, including Representative Mauro. Chairman Richards sent men on suicide missions, attempting to blow up Locust Emergence Holes with suicide bombers. By the second year, the numbers of citizens dropped from 150 to twelve. By then, the area we are in was abandoned, deemed to be too big to defend. Hence the bodies." He waved a hand lazily towards the corpses around them. "Finally, he failed."  
"What happened?" Sergeant Hilde asked, speaking for the first time since the Wretches attacked.  
"An Emergence Hole appeared within their defences, and wiped the group down to six, including Chairman Richards. The Locust, deciding to make an example of the Chairman, took him and the prisoners to this courtyard. And they executed him."  
"They shot him?" Kiran asked curiously.  
Gravell shook his head. "He wasn't so lucky. According to the only survivor, a prisoner who escaped, the Locust made the others watch as they plucked out Richards' eyes, and while he screamed they ripped out his tongue to silence his babbling. Then, they sliced his wrists and hung him up on his own statue, suspending him by his veins and ateries. Like a puppet. He was still alive when the Locust waited for it to go dark, and watched as the Kryll devoured him slowly. By morning, he was just shredded flesh and Kryll shit!"  
"Jesus," Kiran gasped, his face paling from the image, and looked up at the statue.  
"With the exception of the survivor who escaped, the others were taken to the statue, and had their throats slit," Gravell continued, ignoring Kiran's disgust. "One of those was the police chief Phillips. A good man. Probably the only honourable one of the Chairman's council. Sliced like a dog."  
Hilde yawned aloud. "As interesting as this is," he replied sarcastically. "I really think we should move out. Before we join the Chairman as Kryll shit!"  
Kiran nodded in agreement. "We have to move out, sir. As much an asshole Hilde is, he's right!"  
Gravell knew they were telling the truth. It wasn't the time to tell tales. Not when darkness crept upon them. "Corporal, where now?"  
David looked at his device. "Sir, it's down that road. We can get there before it's dark. Fortunately, the only road available is the road we must take."  
"You heard him," Gravell barked. "Move out!"  
As the group moved away from the dead man's statue, Gravell looked at Chairman Richards. The statue stared back at him hollowly, his expression amused and cruel.  
"Fuck you!" he said to the steel statue, and walked away, catching up with the others.

Private Lodwick sped towards the old box building ahead, the cry of the Wretches behind him echoing through his head. It made him sick to his stomach, but he promised not to vomit. Not now, at least. Staggering behind, he heard the heavy pants coming from the wounded Joseph Reed. Under the overweight man's breath, Lodwick heard what the man was saying as he tried to keep up.  
"Bleeding. Hungry. Bleeding. Hungry."  
The words annoyed Lodwick, but they kept him reassured that he was not alone. What made Lodwick feel bad was that he may have to sacrifice Joseph. The wounded pilot's blood was the reason the Wretches could find them, and the fat guy's scent was driving them crazy! He had thought about shooting Joseph in the leg, give him a chance to escaoe while Joseph was eaten. But he couldn't. He wasn't like that. He would find another way.  
"Bleeding. Hungry. Bleeding. Hun-"  
The two of them reached the old building, and charged the door open. The inside was messy, and filled with weak-looking boxes. Dry blood stained the walls, and the stench of death and urine hit Lodwick hard. Bile rose up his throat, but he fought it. The boxes were scattered everywhere, and the only other door was chained up. Lodwick kicked himself mentally for forgetting to bring something powerful. He knew by the lock shooting at it was futile.  
"Shit!"  
He turned to face Joseph, who stood leaning against the wall, still clutching his bloody wound. The blood dried around his hand, like a gruesome glove. The door was wide open, and behind Joseph was a blood trail.  
"Close the door! CLOSE IT!" Lodwick shouted at him.  
Joseph blinked in confusion, and suddenly it clicked. Panic on his face, he turned to close the door, still clutching his wound. He pushed it back closed, the door moving two inches closer to closing-  
"AAAARRRGHHHH!"  
Too late. A Wretch leapt upon Joseph, and the fat man squealed as it clawed at his face. Blood splattered to the ground, forming in small pools. Joseph stumbled back into a pile of boxes, howling in agony. He writhed under the Wretch's weight, and tried to throw it off. The Wretch dug its claws into Joseph's face, and slashed two lines down it, popping one of his eyes. Joseph's howls got higher, and the white liquid from his eye poured from his freshly empty eye socket, stinging the shredded flesh now exposed. Joseph's remaining eye glanced at Lodwick with horror, demanding help. Lodwick could only watch with horror, knowing his time was up.  
Another Wretch rushed into the room, and pounced on Joseph's torso. Its teeth dug into Joseph's large stomach, and with a wet rip yanked out a stream of intestines, which flapped in distress from the creature's foul, sharp teeth. Joseph's screams got louder and higher. The first Wretch hissed at the other, but continued to work on Joseph, biting off his left ear. A third Wretch entered, and ran to Joseph's twitching left hand, ripping it off with one strong pull. The second Wretch was now hollowing out Joseph's stomach, and starting to work on Joseph's crotch. The second Wretch tugged fiercely, and created a large hole between Joseph's legs. Joseph cawed with pain, and started to weep feebly from his only eye.  
Lodwick watched in awe and disgust as the first Wretch finally made the killer move. With a loud and high cry, the Wretch lifted its head, and buried its teeth into Joseph's throat. Joseph's screams became gargled, and blood launched from his mouth. Blood seeped down to Lodwick's boots, but Lodwick didn't care. The show in front of him had shocked him into paralysis. Reed's remaining eye curled up in his now shattered skull, and the noise ceased.  
Joseph was dead.  
The first two Wretches kept eating the dead man, and as Lodwick regained control of himself, he held his rifle in front of him as the third Wretch dived at him, claws out. Lodwick and the Wretch flew backwards into another pile of boxes, and Lodwick's rifle slid away from him.  
The Wretch cried aloud, but Lodwick made his move first. With a clenched fist, he smashed the Wretch over the head, causing it to bite off its own tongue. The Wretch shrieked in agony, and fell off of Lodwick. Without hesitating, Lodwick leapt onto the creature, and pounded his fist into the creature's head, rage flowing through him. The creature slashed at his face, barely missing him. He felt the air strike his face. After a fifth punch, Lodwick dived for his rifle, leaving the Wretch to squirm in pain. He reached his right hand towards the rifle, eager to grab it-  
- And screamed in horror and pain as the Wretch that had been eating Joseph's crotch ran at him and bit off his index and middle fingers. As he clutched his wounded hand, he heard the Wretch behind him cry out for others.  
"Fuck!" he muttered.


	5. Saving Private Lodwick

The sun's rays reddened as he walked down the street, and in the distance, he heard the cries of the awakening Kryll. The street itself was dark, the buildings each side of the car-clogged road cast their shadows above him, the only light coming from ahead of him. The vehicles on the road were rusty and useless, only there as dying decorations to a once live city. The buildings around them looked the same to him, none particularly interesting. Each was cracked and crumbling, the windows all gone and furniture within bloody and shredded. There were few bodies, but none recent. The road was cracked in many places, creating a mosaic-like effect.  
"Over there!"  
As Ashford raised his Lancer rifle, he followed Lloyd's pointing finger. It led towards a dark spot in the middle of the road. Ashford felt like kicking himself for not noticing. The spot was a hole, around eight feet in diameter, and seemed to travel downwards into a dark abyss. The underground walls were perfectly formed, and looked quite smooth. Upon the walls, a transparent mucus flowed, the liquid slightly tainted with a light green glow. There were no vehicles near it, but there were tyre marks formed nearby, implying that the vehicles that had once existed had fallen into the dark pit. It gave Ashford a strange feeling of vertigo.  
"An Emergence Hole," Lloyd muttered, his right hand gripping his Boltok Pistol tightly, his knuckles turning a dying white colour.  
"When did it appear?" Ashford asked in awe.  
"I don't know," Lloyd responded, kicking a stone down it, listening as it collided several times against the hole's wall as it descended. "I think it was here all this time. We just didn't notice it."  
"Bullshit!"  
Lloyd looked at Ashford and raised his eyebrows. "Call it what you want, that's the closest thing to the truth we have. If it was recent, we would have heard it!"  
Ashford shook his head, but did not respond. He knew it wasn't possible, but at the same time Lloyd was right. Those things weren't silent, and the tyre marks around it weren't fresh.  
"We should destroy it," Ashford finally answered, feeling his stomach churn as he stared down the hole, an entrance to an entirely different place.  
"With what?" Lloyd retorted. "It would take more than a grenade to take this thing down." He shook his head at Ashford, and stepped back from the hole. "We should just leave it be."  
Ashford sighed. He was right. There was nothing they could do about it right now.  
AAARRRRGGGHHHH!  
The scream caused Ashford to stumble forward, and it was only due to Lloyd's hand grabbing him that he didn't topple into the hole head first. However, it didn't stop his spare Lancer ammo clip from slipping from his pocket and deep down into the beyond.  
"Damn!" he cursed, flying backwards as Lloyd threw him back. He fell in a sitting position, and wrestled himself to his feet to aim his Lancer in the scream's direction. "What was that?"  
Lloyd's Boltok was pointed in the direction also, his hand shaking wildly. He gulped, and answered Ashford with a wavering voice. "I think something found the others..."  
Shit! Ashford thought. This wasn't good. He had temporarily forgotten about Lodwick and Reed when he had seen the hole, but now his priorities returned. He felt a shiver down his spine, but tried to ignore it. It was no time to get freaked out. He needed to be fearless, and prepared. Also cautious. He couldn't forget cautious.  
God, he hoped he wouldn't forget cautious!  
"Let's move," he muttered, and ran silently in the direction of the scream, Lloyd following closely behind.

It had taken them ten minutes to reach the building. It had been an uneventful run, with no Locust in sight. He had felt them watching, but it seemed they weren't intending to kill them. Not yet.  
Leaning against the building's wall, Ashford turned to Lloyd.  
"This is where it came from. That scream. Seems to be an old warehouse."  
Lloyd leaned away from the wall, only to have Ashford slam him back against it.  
"Don't move!" he hissed, wanting to hit the medic for his foolishness. "If anything's in there, it'll see you. We need to play this cautiously."  
Yes, cautiously. Without it, they may as well be nude with bullseyes painted on their chests.  
"Are you sure?" Lloyd asked, looking sceptical. "It seems too quiet here. No sounds of combat, or sounds of victory, for either side. It's just not normal."  
"The Wretches know about the Kryll as much as we do," Ashford whispered. "They may be primitive, but they aren't stupid. They'd find somewhere nice and light to survive the night. Besides, this is the only area we can go. It's getting dark, and sooner we are inside, the better."  
Gripping his rifle, Ashford slid his body across the wall, inching towards the door. The door was swinging back and forth, opening up to the old warehouse. The hundreds of boxes inside were piled up, but seemed to be caving in on each other. But it was the trickle of dark red blood flowing towards him that had Ashford readying himself. He could see the lights inside flicker from his view at the side of the open door. The light shown him the shadows of the boxes, and of another figure. The figure was distorted and unfamiliar, yet it gave Ashford a familiar sense of fear and anxiety.  
Ashford leapt in front of the open door, and stepped back at what his eyes registered. Hidden under some boxes was Joseph Reed. But it wasn't the same Joseph. This Joseph's face was shredded, the only things intact being one eye and a piece of his cheek. This Joseph's hands were no longer there, just bones with strands of flesh reluctant to let go of their original owner. This Joseph had a hole where his crotch was, and its legs were torn off, now laying across other sides of the room. This Joseph's large stomach was now open, its organs messily removed, with its blood vessels streaming out like morbid confetti paper decorating the hole in his torso. This Joseph was dead.  
Behind him, Ashford heard Lloyd approach and gasp.  
"Is that Joseph?"  
Ashford nodded. "What's left of him."  
Lloyd approached the body, and leaned next to it. Ashford watched carefully, his mind picturing Joseph's skeletal hand shooting out and choking Lloyd, cursing him with the shredded remains of his tongue.  
"God," Lloyd gasped, holding Joseph's destroyed face in his hand. "They bit out some of his teeth too. The gums are shattered." He blinked hard, and turned to Lloyd. "I just hope he died instantly. The very idea of him taking all these injuries alive just-" Lloyd shuddered, and glanced around the building. "So where's Lodwick?"  
"Beats me," Ashford replied, and aimed his rifle as a pile of boxes fell. There was something still around. "But I have a feeling we'll find out." He looked at Lloyd. "Stay here."  
He turned away before Lloyd could reply, and stalked deeper into the room, walking through the maze of boxes. A noise started to get louder as he moved on, the noise sounding like a machine trying to crush something hard.  
No, not a machine. Teeth. Like teeth chewing bone.  
Crap, it got Lodwick too, he thought. Well, it's not going to get away.  
Ashford approached the noise. It was underneath a pile of fallen boxes, and well hidden. A foot in front of the pile were two fingers.  
"Damn," Ashford whispered to himself, and moved closer to the pile, the noise continuing to chew.  
He was now next to the pile, the boxes moving slightly as the noise continued. Ashford prepared himself.  
One.  
He felt sweat trickle down the back of his neck, as hot as Joseph's blood. But he had to go through with it. He was too close not to.  
Two.  
A voice in his head urged him to flee, but he ignored it. The voice got louder.  
Three.  
Ashford reached into his pocket, and fished out the photo of his wife and son.  
Four.  
Studying it, he smiled grimly and kissed it tenderly.  
"I love you," he muttered to the smiling pair, frozen in their moment of happiness forever captured in one small, flat square. He slipped it back into his pocket, and the voice was gone.  
FIVE!  
With a hard kick, Ashford booted one of the bigger boxes off the pile, and pointed his rifle towards the shapes in front of him, ready to fire.


End file.
